Agni Descending
by Youngest Ones Rule
Summary: Dean and Sam travel north in the winter to meet a demon who burns his victims. If only Sam had listened when Dean said they should get out... Angsty/hurt Dean, guilty/hurt Sam... Let me know how you like it... Thanks for reading
1. Chapter 1

**This was my first attempt at writing a "creature" story. It is set prior to demon-Sam or deals, in other words, season one! It evolves into some Dean hurt/angst, but of course angst for Dean creates angst for Sam, right? Reviews are thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated! Chapter one is filled with a lot of set-up, so bare with me?**

_**Bonners Ferry, Idaho**_

The picture slipped into the hearth and came to rest on the bed of embers. Hans Bercht gulped and glanced over his shoulder. "There's no way this is happening."

He studied the picture as the corners turned brown and then burst into yellow and orange flames. The picture began to curl in on itself and the flames continued to lap their way across the faces. The embers made the most of their final treat of the night and in the next second, the picture flattened out. For a fraction of a second it looked like the original, only blackened. Then it disintegrated to become one with the dying embers.

He sighed with relief and turned to face the stairway which would lead him to his wife. He knew she'd never understand. She would never forgive him. His feet felt like lead as he made his way across the room.

He checked the locks on the door and again paused. The whole situation weighed heavily on his heart. He shivered as he turned, but not from cold. He looked back into the living room and studied the fire. The embers continued to die, but the heat they emitted seemed to have grown.

He looked over to the silk fichus tree under the heat vent, assuming the furnace had kicked in. The plant leaves remained still. From the corner of his eye, he sensed movement in the room and looked back to the fireplace.

"What the hell? Where? How did you get in here? Who the hell are you?"

The figure in the shadows of his living room drifted closer. The man backed away, the hairs on the back of his neck crept upward. He wanted to scream but his nerves and the sudden onslaught of heat in the room created only a small yelp. There was no way his wife would hear him and call for help.

_**Hwy 2, Montana / Idaho Border**_

"Why winter?" Dean growled as he navigated his beloved Impala along the deserted highway. "Look how empty this road is. NO ONE wants to come out here this time of year."

Sam rolled his eyes, but otherwise continued to ignore his brother's typical rant. He was rereading the articles he'd clipped for the umpteenth time.

Dean lapsed in to silence when he got no response from his brother, but it didn't last long. "So, we'll be there soon. Where to first?"

To anyone watching, it would appear Sam wasn't paying attention, but there was always a part of Sam Winchester's mind focused on his brother's needs. "I dunno. I suppose we can start with a hotel. Set up a base, get a feel for the town and then decide the best course of action."

"Why not just head to the police station and get reports?" Dean mused.

Sam scowled. "Dean, we don't know how long we'll be in town. We can't pretend to be something we're not if we have to be here for any length of time. This is a small town. There's not even 3000 residents."

Dean pouted. "You have to admit, it is easier."

"Sure, Dean. Whatever."

Dean followed the signs as the highway turned into 95. It appeared to be the main drag through town. He spied a hotel sign and pointed to it. "Looks as good as anything."

Sam nodded and folded the papers he'd been studying.

The Kootenai Valley Motel got its name from the river running across the north end of town, which in turn got its name from a local tribe. Despite the snow and cold of the late January day, Sam thought the area was beautiful. There was something peaceful and tranquil about snow. Sam's heart was immediately attracted to it.

It wasn't the kind of city that made national headlines. It was known for lumber throughout most of its existence, but in the late 80's the Anheuser-Busch company opened a large hops farm which brought about an economic boom for the area.

"Some boom-town." Sam muttered as they entered the motel office.

Dean raised an eyebrow in his younger brother's direction, but Sam waved him off and went to the rack of local publications as Dean secured a room.

As they completed the check-in, the older woman behind the counter could hold her tongue no more. "So, what brings you two this far north in January? The ski-resorts 

are further south."

Dean smiled and gestured over his shoulder. "My brother and I… We just like wandering. Tourist traps aren't our thing."

She nodded politely, but it was obvious she doubted the story.

Sam joined the group, holding out the local paper. "Can we borrow this? I'd like to read up on the town." He smiled brightly. "It's the only real way to get a feel for the place."

Dean would have groaned. It never failed. The minute Sam smiled it brought out a deadly combination of dimples and his puppy dog brown eyes. It annoyed him to think of all the missed opportunities Sam had. No woman could resist. It was a good thing too, since he wasn't charming like his older brother.

The clerk was no different. "Sure. It's from this weekend though."

Sam nodded. "No problem. Thanks."

"Enjoy your stay!" She called after them as the boys left the office.

Dean was still shaking his head. His brother was oblivious to the effect he had on people and it annoyed him. Oh sure, Sam knew he had a 'way' with people his brother didn't, but Sam assumed it was because Dean tended to be blunt. Sam thought it was all about his approach. He had no clue about his puppy-dog eyes or dimples.

Many times in life, it made Dean want to puke. Every now and again it was helpful.

"So, what did you find?" Dean asked as he pushed the door to their room open. It was a standard issue room, neutral in every way. It was boring compared to many of the rooms they'd rented. It seemed this town contained practical people.

"Nothing yet." Sam dropped his bag on the bed furthest from the door and sank onto the edge in order to read. "Hans Bercht, local attorney's body was found burned to a crisp in his living room."

Dean stretched out on his bed, hands behind his head. "So how does this make it our kind of case?"

"Because nothing else in the house burned." Sam looked up to see Dean's reaction.

Dean shook his head. "I thought you said the body was charred to a crisp."

Sam nodded. "They had to id him with dental records."

"So how could nothing else have burned?"

Sam smiled. "That's why it's our kind of case."

Dean shook his head, this time from disbelief. "Nope… It still doesn't make it our kind of case. Someone could have just thrown him in there after burning him somewhere else."

Sam grinned a bit wider. "It's the third case this year."

Dean considered this new piece of information. "I don't suppose the deaths are related?"

Sam shook his head.

Dean pursed his lips while he considered his next step. "Three in THIS year?"

Sam nodded.

Dean sighed. "So… Anything in dad's journal about a monster due back this year?" He knew the answer already, but he liked to pick on his brother.

Sam rolled his eyes and slid back onto the bed. He assembled all the papers around him and scanned it all quickly.

Dean closed his eyes and snoozed until his brother had somewhere to start. It was handy to have a research geek, especially one who enjoyed it.

"Reporters." Sam said suddenly aloud.

Dean was just drifting off to a deeper sleep, filled with images of ski-bunnies, when Sam's voice forced his eyes open. He blinked a few times. "What?"

"I think we need to go in as reporters." He hesitated and then added. "Or insurance investigators I suppose. We could claim to be withholding payment due to the suspicious nature of the death."

Dean pulled himself up to a sitting position and stretched his arms out. "So, we suit up and pay a visit to the grieving widow?"

Sam stared at Dean, stunned to find he accepted the plan so easily. "That's it?"

"What?" Dean demanded, reading Sam like a book.

"You are going to have to put on your suit and you're not complaining?"

Dean ginned. "It's so easy to play with your head, Sammy."

Sam groaned and pulled his wrinkled suit from his bag. He had to get it straightened out.

_**Bercht Residence, Tannenbaum Circle, Bonners Ferry, Idaho**_

"What if she asks for a card?" Sam asked. It was a frequent routine for them. They always practiced their stories before entering the situation. If something came up once they were in the midst of an act, they had a set pattern of fall back lines.

Dean pulled at his collar. "I left them at the hotel. We can drop one by later."

Sam frowned. "Assuming we can drag out the name of her company before then."

Dean grinned confidently. "Sam, it's not like we haven't done this before. I am a master."

Sam pointed to the doorbell. "Proceed Obi-Wan. Use the force."

Dean scowled. "Don't make me go darkside on your ass, Sam." He reached over and pressed the button, shoving Sam in the process.

A woman came to the door almost immediately. She seemed startled at their appearance. A man stood behind her and it appeared as if they'd been on their way out. "Oh, I'm sorry. We were…"

Sam smiled. "No worries. We don't mean to interrupt."

The gentleman in the hall coughed. "I think I have everything I need to go ahead with the claim, Mrs. Bercht. I'm sure we can square things away promptly."

Dean and Sam exchanged quick glances, immediately going to plan B.

The insurance agent step by them and Mrs. Bercht stood in the doorway, waiting for an introduction.

Sam coughed. "Ah, um… Mrs. Bercht, I know this may sound strange, but we'd like to ask you a few questions about your husband's death."

"But the other officers said they were through." She proclaimed, with an edge of panic in her voice.

A quick glance to Sam proved to Dean that his brother was about to launch into the truth. He knew that couldn't happen. "Ma'am, we are sorry to disturb you, but in light of the other cases, around town, they've assigned us to the case. I know you've given your statement, but it's always better if we can hear things for ourselves."

Sam swallowed and nodded, complying with his brother's story. Inside, he was grinning at how much quickly Dean could switch to sounding sincere.

Marion Bercht sighed and stepped back, gesturing the Winchesters into her home. Sam felt a pang of guilt. It was obvious the woman was tired or she would have thought to ask them for id.

"Thank you, Ma'am." Sam said sheepishly as he stepped over the threshold. "We won't take much of your time."

As soon as introductions were over and they were seated with cups of coffee at the dining room table, Sam took the lead. "Can you tell us about that night?"

She closed her eyes, as if reliving the night and then began, while her eyes were still closed. "It seemed so normal. He came home a bit late. He was tired, but I'd held dinner. He said he had a bit more work to do, so he went into the den and I eventually headed off to bed."

Dean interrupted her. "You didn't talk to him after he went into the den?"

She offered a half-hearted smile. "I stopped in to see how long he would be and say good night."

"When did you… did you notice something wrong?" Sam didn't like hurting the woman further. His brain fought to determine the key pieces of information they would need.

"You mean when did I find his body?" She took a deep drink from her own mug and then picked at the napkin on her lap. "I don't think I'll ever forget that sight." She gulped and glanced over to the room beyond them that was closed off. "I'm sure I'll sell the house once everything is settled. I can't bear to even open the door to the room."

Sam knew they were losing her. "So you found the body in the living room?"

"I found a charred corpse which was later revealed to be my husband." There was a hint of anger in her voice.

Sam swallowed and glanced to Dean, who jumped onto the questioning. "Did your husband have any enemies? Anyone who might have tried to kill him?"

Tears now flowed from her eyes. "Enemies? In this town? His family came here from Germany a hundred years ago. He's the only lawyer in town. No one hated him enough to do this." She paused. "You think someone killed him?"

Her question surprised both brothers. Sam recovered first. "Did someone else suggest otherwise?"

She wiped at her tears with her napkin. "Maybe that's why they called you in? You're not from around here. You have fresh minds? Tom, that's the sheriff, he figured Hans' clothes caught an ember from the fire. He always put it to bed before coming upstairs."

Dean's eyes narrowed. He hated closed minded people like this Sheriff Tom. They wouldn't see the truth if it bit them in the ass. "You're awfully lucky the entire house didn't catch on fire then."

She nodded.

"Were there any new cases your husband was working on?" Sam asked softly, hoping to wrap up the interview.

She shook her head. "He never risked talking about work. We may have several thousand people here in Bonners Ferry, but it's got the feel of a small town. Everyone knows everyone else. It was easier if he kept his work to himself."

Dean smiled. "Makes a lot of sense."

_**Bercht Law Office, Downtown Bonners Ferry**_

Gina Holger ignored the tears that rolled down her face as she ripped through the files on her late employer's desk.

She couldn't believe this was happening. Three weeks ago she was thrilled to discover the evidence of their relationship was growing inside her. Two weeks ago she'd confronted Hans. She'd assumed he'd be thrilled. Marion hadn't been able to provide him with a child, but she could and would.

She hadn't expected him to deny it. He refused to believe he was the father. He claimed he'd had a vasectomy. He said he'd see her run out of town if she made her accusations public.

That night, she'd confronted him with evidence. A photo. well, a copy of the photo. Thank goodness for digital cameras. The original file was stored in a safe place on her computer. He'd grabbed the photo and left her in his office.

The cramping began later that night.

She lost the baby in the wee hours of the morning, only to receive a phone call from Marion a few hours later.

The entire experience left her with a bad taste in her mouth. She had no time to grieve either loss. Now she was in charge of cleaning up the office. Wasn't she the lucky one?

She moved one final stack and decided to give up for the night. It was too big a job. She sank into Hans' chair and rested her hand on her empty belly. She felt both losses keenly.

She stretched out and grabbed her purse. From inside, she withdrew a copy of the same picture she'd presented Hans as evidence. It showed them both curled up on her bed. 'Afternoon delight,' that's what Hans' had called it.

Tears flooded her eyes and she tossed the picture onto his desk. She stared at it and anger grew in her heart with each passing moment. Digging through the desk draw, she snatched a pack of matches. Holding the picture between two fingers, she struck a match and lit the corner on fire.

As the flames caught on, she dumped over his metal waste basket and emptied it with her foot and open hand. As the flames neared her finger tips, she dropped the picture into the basket and watched it burn away.

As soon as she was sure the picture was cold ashes, she ran from the room. She was just about to leave the outer office, but recalled her purse. She stomped her foot and debated leaving it until morning. She decided with the luck she was having, she'd need it. She turned to go back and retrieve it.

Her feet froze to the floor as she watched it rise from the can. It was dark in the room, but she couldn't take her eyes from the image before her. It was tall, and appendages seemed to come from all over its body.

She wanted to run. She wanted to scream, but she could do neither.

It neared her and as it came closer, it passed through the moonlight of a window.

Its body was black and its eyes were red. As its mouth opened, fiery tongues protruded. One of the appendages, in the shape of an arm, reached out to her, flames erupting from the fingerlike shapes.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you to the lovely people who left replies and also to those interested enough to add an alert for more. I hope you continue to enjoy the story! Please note: I'm a teacher, not a doctor. I took a little creative license in the end of the chapter on medical treatments.**_

_**Sorry I didn't have this up yesterday… Life, ya know.**_

* * *

**Chapter Two  
**

Dean pulled at the tie choking him as they returned to the Impala. "How do people wear these things on a daily basis?"

Sam stopped and grinned at the obvious opening his brother had presented him. Dean looked up at him, stymied. "What?"

Sam grinned. "If your head wasn't so…"

He couldn't finish. Dean lashed out and punched him in the stomach. "Funny guy. Feel like laughing now?"

Sam growled briefly and straightened. "Aren't you the tough guy?" Before his brother could comment, he moved the conversation back to the case. "You can't take it off just yet. We'll need it for cover when we go to his office."

Dean's displeasure was obvious. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one? The office is closed. What difference does it make?

Sam cocked his head boldly. "We just established our identities. If we get caught at the office, don't you think it would help?"

Dean hated losing to his younger brother, but he had to concede the point. "Fine! Let's get this over with." He ducked his head into the dark car beginning to mumble. "Just think… my geek brother wanted to be lawyer… he could wear these things all the time."

_**Bercht Law Office, Downtown Bonners Ferry  
**_

Gina was momentarily frozen as the flames jumped out at her, aiming for her head. Then, something deep inside of her spurred her into motion and she boldly shoved at the thing and ducked around it. She felt the heat penetrate her palms and fingers.

She screamed.

In the next instant, strong hands were pulling her out of the way. She was only vaguely aware of another set of hands pulling her backward, into the hallway. "What?" She managed to blurt. Suddenly, she was alone. Confused, but emboldened, she followed a blurry form in front of her back to the doorway and watched with horror as two young men in suits seemed to fight her attacker, whatever it was.

"Dean!" The taller of the two shouted. Gina recognized that he must have been the one who had pulled her into the hallway. After seeing her into the hallway, he'd rushed in to find 'Dean' surrounded by a circle of flames.

The one called Dean was bobbing and weaving in an attempt to escape the circle of flames that surrounded him. Each time he made a move, the flames seemed to soar exactly in his path. "Did you think a freakin' extinguisher might help?" He shouted as he made eye contact with the taller man for a fraction of a second.

The tall one nodded and ran back into the hallway seeking the desired object. He passed her, but didn't acknowledge her. She watched him stop before the glass door a few feet down. He grabbed at the handle, but it wouldn't budge. He pulled his sleeve down and pounded against the glass. It shattered, but not without slicing through the simple fabric surrounding his fist. He ignored the sharp jabs of pain from the glass shards. Using a higher part of his jacket sleeve, he pushed remaining glass out of the way and pulled the extinguisher from its hook.

Gina was mesmerized.

He ran back into the room and Gina followed, both seemed to note no change. 'Dean' was still encircled by a wall of flame. Her brain was firing at many different levels and at one point she noted that nothing was burning in the room. There was merely flame.

The tall one pulled the hose free and aimed it directly at the largest portion of flames. As the foamy material hit the flame, it shrank back. It didn't die. He stepped back, still firing the foam as Dean stepped over the simmering red blaze. "Let's get the hell out of here."

Dean pulled at the tall one's arm. "No." He resisted, pulling his arm away. "We need to figure this out as long as well can."

Gina couldn't believe he wanted to stay. She willed him to leave.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sammy! That thing was trying to torch me. I say get the hell out and live to fight again." He pulled harder.

Gina nodded, agreeing with him.

"DEAN! The extinguisher doesn't work. We have NO IDEA what this is!" Gina noted the taller one's name was evidently Sammy, who followed Dean's gaze back to the flames, as did she.

"It's growing. Can we go now?" Dean and Sammy stood in disbelief for fractions of a second. Before them the ring of fire, morphed into a wall and then condensed into a humanoid form with tentacles of flame branching off its core.

Sammy said nothing, he merely nodded. He seemed to finally know it was way beyond anything he wanted to wrangle with at the moment.

Sammy backed up despite his fear, unwilling to stop studying the entity. Dean turned to lead them out, knowing full well where the other's concentration lay. Dean shoved Sammy through the door and was about to follow him when the air pressure around him increased and heated up. "Sam?"

Sam and Gina looked over and watched in horror as a tentacle of flame closed around his brother's neck. Dean attempted to duck, but felt the flames licking at his face. He couldn't hold back the scream of pain as he felt his skin and eyes searing.

Sam grabbed at Dean's flailing arm and pulled with all his might. Dean fell forward and the two collapsed onto the floor. Sam instinctively pulled Dean closer, but watched at the same time as the flame withdrew and shrank back into the wastebasket it had presumably come from.

"What the hell was that?" Gina fell to the floor next to Sam.

Sam ignored her. "Dean? Dean, let me see?" He pulled Dean back. Gina could hear his heart pounding in his chest at the lack of response. He flipped Dean over and found him unconscious. "Dean?" He called to him, but to no avail. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. They needed help and 911 was universal.

Gina reached out and placed her hand over it. "It's routed from the next town over. I'll go call directly."

Sam couldn't speak. He merely nodded and pulled Dean against his chest. He considered going for some water to begin bathing Dean's face. He did his best to ignore the heat radiating from Dean. He refused to think about how burns get worse because the heat continues to penetrate layers of skin, even when the source is removed.

Gina returned with a bottle of water. "I grabbed this from the lounge across the way. We can use it until help gets here. It won't be long." She unscrewed the lid and poured a small amount over Dean's forehead, allowing it to roll down over his reddened lids.

"I'm sure he'll be ok." She offered. Sam swallowed and looked to her. He couldn't quite speak yet, but he nodded. "It could have been worse." She continued to mumble expressions that might have offered comfort.

Although it seemed like hours, sirens were soon heard and Gina left to show the medics where to come. Soon Dean was loaded onto a gurney and hauled off to the hospital. Sam stayed at his side the whole time, speaking quietly. "Come on, Dean. Wake up." He whispered the command over and over again.

As he sat next to Dean, the medic looked over. "I think it's better to be out right now. That's gotta hurt. Unconsciousness is often a protecting instinct on the body's part." He paused to see if his words were helping. "He's lucky. The burns don't look too bad."

Sam finally met the man's gaze. "It shouldn't have happened in the first place."

Gina lingered behind, answering the questions put to her.

_**Boundary Community Hospital  
**_

Sam paced the small waiting room, wondering when someone might come and bring him to Dean. It had been too long and with each passing minute, he was getting closer and closer to tearing the place apart, ala Dean.

When they arrived, a nurse had swept Sam into an exam room and cleaned up his fist. There were no serious cuts requiring stitches, but it was now bandaged.

"No word yet?"

Sam spun around to find the woman from the office. He hadn't taken the time to get her name. "No."

She forced a smile. "I'm Gina. Gina Holger. You're Sammy, right?

"I'm Sam." He grumbled and then felt shame at his tone. Sam offered his hand. "Only he can call me Sammy." He forced a small smile.

"I gave the Sheriff my report. I convinced him to hold off on yours."

Sam drew in a deep breath. Duty was driving him to take advantage of the situation and continue the job for which they had come. "What did you tell him?"

She smiled. "I was leaving the office. I went back in to get my wallet and discovered the fire. I told them how it seemed to reach out to me and how you and your brother saved me."

Sam scowled. "How did you know he's my brother?"

She laughed softly. "My cousin works the desk at the hotel. She called me earlier today and said there were a couple of good looking guys in town." She blushed. "We don't get a lot of strangers around here. You naturally attracted attention."

He swallowed. "What did the Sheriff say about the fire? Was there a lot of damage?"

She shook her head. "If he hadn't watched me grow up here, he'd probably be hauling us all in for drug testing. There was no evidence of a fire. If…"

Sam was already following her thoughts. "If there hadn't been the other mysterious deaths by fire?"

She nodded.

"Why were you at Brecht's law office?" Sam pressed. In the back of his mind he knew it was better than waiting.

"I was cleaning up the place for his wife." She watched as Sam's eyes called for more information. "I was his assistant."

Sam nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss." He meant it as a pleasantry, but he noted the twinge of pain which crossed her face. "Were you close to Mr. Brecht?"

She swallowed and glanced away. "He was a good boss." Sam remained silent, and it worked. She got nervous. "What are you thinking?"

He sighed. "Was there more to it?"

She shivered and her voice dropped to a whisper. "This is a small town."

He nodded, understanding a bit better.

"Mr. Weaton?" A nurse stepped into the room. "Sorry to interrupt, Gina." She looked back at Sam. "I can bring you to your brother now."

Sam nodded and turned to Gina. "I gotta go."

She smiled. "I'll stop again to thank him, if that's ok?"

Sam nodded and then turned to follow the nurse down the small corridor. "Is he ok?"

She smiled. "The doctor will talk to you both."

Sam's face lit with his first relief. "He's awake?" They rounded a corner into an exam room. He nearly overran the nurse.

"Of course, I am."

"Dean!" Sam's smile grew until his eyes fell on his brother's bandaged face. He swallowed further comment.

"So they tell me. I can't look in a mirror to be sure. I feel like me, so I guess it will have to do."

Sam paled. "It sounds like you." He knew his brother was using humor to dispel his fear. He wasn't about to do otherwise.

A cough broke the conversation. "I'm Doctor Ripert. Dean's face and neck suffered some second degree burns, but none too terrible. He should make a full recovery."

Sam smiled. "That's great. Thanks." He held out his hand and shook the doctor's.

Dean wasn't satisfied. "But what about scars?"

"There shouldn't be any. I'll be sending you home with detailed care instructions. Assuming you follow them and take care of yourself. You'll be fine."

"Sorry Dean. I know how you think scars attract the ladies." Sam teased, his whole body filled with relief. He figured he could pin his brother down long enough to heal, especially with his eyes covered.

"Ha ha." Dean replied sullenly. "What about my eyes? It feels like they're covered." He reached up and touched his face.

Sam didn't realize there was an issue with Dean's eyes; he turned to the doctor for his answer.

"There was some burning of your corneas. They should heal fine. If you're lucky, your vision won't be impaired." Ripert supplied the news with no emotion. "They can be painful; we'll get you a script for some pain killers."

"If I'm lucky?" Dean said abruptly.

Ripert nodded to Sam. "We've treated them. It's very important the covering stay over his eyes for three days. If they're removed before then, it could cause permanent damage."

Sam swallowed. "We can handle that."

An hour later, after taking copious notes, Sam led Dean back into their hotel room.

"I don't know if you remember the layout, but the beds are on the left and the bathroom is in the back." Sam pulled Dean's arm and tried to lead him to the second bed. "I'll get you set up in the bed by the bathroom. It'll be easier for you."

Dean wrenched his arm from Sam's. "No way! I always sleep by the door." He tried to make his way around, but tripped over a bag on the floor. He didn't fall, but he did fumble and only righted himself with a strong arm from Sam. "I'm FINE! Leave me alone."

Sam swallowed. He sensed this would happen. "Dean, just this once. Take the bed closer. It'll be easier."

"How?" His angry retort died. He lapsed into silence.

Sam took his arm and led him to the edge of the bed. "How about something to eat? I could order a pizza?"

Dean shook his head. "I'm tired. I just want to sleep." He pulled himself back across the bedspread and felt for the edge. "Maybe when I wake up, this whole nightmare will be over and I'll wake up next to the fire at the ski lodge." He yanked back the covers and stuffed himself inside not bothering to change clothes or even remove his shoes.

Sam closed his eyes and drew in several calming breaths. This wasn't going to be easy. It was going to be a long three days.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm always very grateful for the comments, so thank you for taking the time.**_

**Chapter Three  
**

Sam had slipped Dean enough of the medication they'd been given to put him out for the night without too much discussion. Sam spent a troubled night himself, but woke and cleaned up with plenty of time to greet Dean with a hearty breakfast. Despite what a grumpy attitude might say; Dean would be hungry. He wouldn't miss two meals in a row.

"What the hell is that smell?" Dean pushed himself up from the pillow. "Is that sausage?"

Sam smiled at his prediction. "Breakfast, you want it in bed or do you want me to help you to the table?"

"I'm not a freakin' invalid, Sam." Dean pushed his legs over the edge of the bed and lurched to his feet. He was immediately overwhelmed and the darkness inside his mind spun, followed by his body.

He might have collapsed onto the bed, but Sam had anticipated as much and was at his side in a heartbeat. "A little slower might be good."

Dean pulled his arm from Sam's grasp. "I'm fine." As he took a step, the vertigo again returned. "Damn it!"

Sam sucked in a deep breath and returned his hand to Dean's elbow. "Dean, for crying out loud. It's not permanent. Let me help you." He didn't allow for a negative response. He propelled Dean forward and pushed him onto a chair. Taking Dean's hand in his, he moved his brother's hand over the plate, letting him feel where the food was. He'd seen it in a movie. "Now eat."

Dean grumbled. He didn't bother to use the fork. He merely grabbed at food with his fingers. "Good thing the eggs are scrambled." After a few minutes 

of silence, he paused and his head drifted around, trying to get a feel for where Sam was.

Sam had been biting his tongue at Dean's eating style. He knew there were just some battles not worth fighting. "I'm to your left." Sam said softly.

Dean pursed his lips for a moment. "Give me your hand."

"You're not done yet. It will get colder."

Dean scowled, the white bandages amplifying the effect. "Give me your hand."

Sam reached out with his good hand. He didn't have the heart to argue.

"No, the other one." Dean demanded.

Sam sighed silently and figured out what Dean was checking on. "It's nothing."

Dean followed Sam's voice and glared through the shield on his face. "Give me your damn hand."

Sam complied. Dean ran his fingers over the bandages on his brother's hand. "What happened?"

"I cut it when I went for the extinguisher." Sam offered, wishing it would be enough. Most days he appreciated his brother's hovering presence. Today he wished he could simply be Dean's brother, not his charge. Times like this, Sam hated his father for committing Dean to his role as protector.

"How bad? Did you have it checked out? How many stitches?"

Sam couldn't help but form a bittersweet smile. "No stitches and yes, it was checked over. It's fine. Worry about yourself." He stopped, knowing it had been the wrong thing to say. Dean wanted a distraction at the moment, not a reminder. He cursed his selfish thoughts.

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but didn't. He shoveled a few more bites into his gullet and then stopped again. "So, what's the plan?"

Sam frowned. "What plan?"

"Jeesh! Did you get hit on the head? Where do we continue with this hunt?" Dean wondered if he could make his mouth show the same kind of determination.

Sam shook his head. "Dean, you need to rest. The only plan is to change your bandages and apply the ointment to your burns." He hesitated and then added. "You need to rest. We can't risk permanent injury." _I don't want to do this alone._

Dean snorted. "I'm not good to us blind?"

Sam snapped. "That's not going to happen!" He jumped from his chair and grabbed Dean's plate, stuffing it in the garbage. "I'll get the supplies." He reached for the bag of supplies and dropped them on the table in front of Dean. Grabbing the scissors, he began to cut away the upper layer of gauze.

Dean might have been blind, but he could hear the pain in Sam's voice. "It's not your fault, Sam." He was mildly glad he couldn't see the pained expression he knew haunted his kid brother's eyes.

Sam froze. His whole body began to tremble. He struggled to hold his hand steady. "I should have listened." He whispered.

"You did what had to be done, Sammy. We needed all the information we could get. That's why you're the researching geek. It's what you do. I know that." He changed his tone to one more serious. "It wasn't your fault. Even if we had run out of the room the minute I suggested it, it might have still grabbed me."

"Might." Sam said sadly. "Probably not."

Dean knew Sam wouldn't let this go. As frustrating as it would be, he had only one choice. He had to do exactly as the doctor had said. He couldn't risk Sam being scarred more seriously than his face. "So, I'll hang out here and listen to the TV and you'll hit the research gig." His heart pounded at the thought of sitting a battle out.

Sam swallowed and stumbled over his answer. "No. I'll stay here and help you."

"I don't need your help, Sam." He swatted at the air, hoping to hit Sam's hand.

Sam pushed Dean's hand away. "I'm not finished."

Dean sighed. "Seriously, Sammy. You go find a library in this hick town. Do the research and then in a few days, when I'm back in perfect shape, _we'll_ kill this flame-thrower."

Sam nodded. He would force himself to research today in order to please Dean, but as soon as he had a lead, this thing was his. It was going to hell at his hand. He owed Dean that much. "Sure, Dean. Sounds like a plan."

Dean growled. "Don't lie to me Sam. Don't go after this thing by yourself."

"Whatever." Sam finished with Dean's bandage and put the supplies neatly away. He knew Dean was just guessing.

Dean grasped at Sam's hand. "I mean it, Sam. Promise me."

Sam remained silent. There were precious few things he'd been able to hold onto over the years. His word was one of them. He wasn't about to give it now, knowing he had no intention of keeping it. He remained silent, much to Dean's ire.

To further prove his point, he pulled away and disappeared into the room.

** Supernatural **

Sam had needed a break from his research, so he used the phone book to seek out Gina Holger's address. "Hi, I was just stopping in to see how you are." He stood on her doorstep and smiled.

She pushed the screen door open. "Come in, Sam. I'm good. How's your brother?"

"He's fine thanks. It drives him nuts, but he's doing as well as can be expected."

She pointed to the sofa. "Why don't you have a seat? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

Sam waved her off. "I'm fine thanks. I didn't mean to be bother." It was obvious she was nervous and tense.

She sank into the chair across from him. "A bother? You and your brother saved my life yesterday. You couldn't possibly bother me." She grinned 

anxiously. "But, I do have a question. What exactly are you doing here?"

Sam swallowed. His mind searched for a reasonable answer. "Why do you ask?"

"You told Marion Brecht you were investigating the death and you told my cousin you were passing through. Which is it?" She settled in to wait for his answer.

Sam coughed. "We're investigating as we're passing through?"

Her eyes narrowed. "What agency lets brothers be partners?"

Sam fumbled even more. "It's a small agency. Not much attention."

She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. "You both were pretty calm about the whole thing. You seemed unfazed about the fiery thing attacking us. Is that what brought you here?"

Sam grinned to cover his anxiety at her questions. "You must read a lot of scifi or tabloids."

"It's a small town and a long winter." She leaned back, relaxing a bit. "I don't begin to understand what happened yesterday, but I've kept an extinguisher within arm's reach ever since. My heart starts beating and it hurts to breathe when I think about it. That thing went after me. You seem to be able to do something about it. Can you help me?"

Sam looked away for a few seconds. "I hope so."

"Am I still in danger?" She asked. "Will it come again?"

"I only have theories." Sam fiddled with a loose string on the arm of the sofa. "But it might."

"It came after me because of Hans, didn't it?" She whispered.

"It's possible. It's the only connection I can find." He sat a bit straighter. "What can you tell me about the others?"

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"You said it yourself. This is a small town. Was there a connection between the others?"

She contemplated his question. "Maybe with Jim and Sharon, but Neil wasn't involved with anyone."

"Was there anything suspicious in Neil's past?" Sam pressed. It was obvious she was uncomfortable, but he needed to know.

She thought again. "I really don't know. He kept to himself. He actually found Sharon's body. He rented a room from her."

Sam considered this information. "Had he seen anything?"

She pursed her lips. "I don't know. He… He wasn't sober very often. We didn't pay much attention to him."

Sam nodded.

"I was thinking of leaving town. I have a sister in Montana. I could go visit her. Do you think?"

"It wouldn't hurt."

She shivered and glanced around the room. "I think I'll leave tonight."

He nodded again.

** Supernatural **

Late that night, Sam returned to the hotel room. He collapsed onto his bed and let his backpack fall to the floor. "I'll go get us dinner. What do you want?"

Dean was lying on his bed, flipping through channels as if he were watching. "I dunno. You look beat. How about we just order a pizza?"

At Dean's comment, Sam groaned and rolled to his side, looking at Dean for the first time. "What in the hell are you wearing?"

Dean looked to the voice in full grin. "Man, you need to get your own eyes checked. You don't recognize sunglasses?"

Sam shook his head. His brother was wearing dark black glasses over his bandages. "Dude." He couldn't even find a comment.

Dean's grin grew. "What can I say, bro. I always look good." He pulled himself up. "So, what did you discover?"

"Agni." Sam stated flatly.

"Agni? What the hell is that?"

Sam sighed and pulled himself up against the headboard. "Agni is the Vedic god of fire."

"Duh!" Dean groused. "What the hell is an Indian god doing in the middle of Idaho? In winter?"

Sam scowled and ignored his brother's remark. "How about this? He's described as having seven fiery tongues and sharpened, golden teeth. He is red in color, with black eyes and wild, black hair. He has seven arms and three legs, and seven rays of light emanate from his body."

"Rays of light? Sure as hell didn't feel like light to me, but it does sound close." He cocked his head to the side and adopted a fake accent. "By George I think you've got it." Dropping the accent, he continued in his normal, but vaguely excited tone. "So, does it say how to kill it? It would suck if we had to drive down south to the ski slopes and haul back a huge chunk of ice to drown it."

Sam smiled, genuinely lightened by his brother's good spirits. "And I suppose we'd have enough time to hang out with a few snow bunnies before we came back?"

Dean grinned. "Ah, snow bunnies. Tell the towns people to carry extinguishers until we get back!"

"In later centuries, he became an incarnation of a Shiva."

Dean's smile faded. "A destroyer of evil?"

Sam nodded. "So far it fits. Brecht was having an affair and Agni comes around to destroy him and Gina."

"Adultery is not evil, Sam." Dean pronounced.

Sam snorted. "You'd better hope not or you're next."

"Hey! I don't commit adultery… that I know of." Dean's tone was indignant.

Sam chuckled. "Well, we do fight the unknown, Dean."

Dean crossed his arms on his chest and growled. "So, we gotta check out the other deaths. Find out if this thing is just going after adulterers or if there's some other evil in their pasts."

"I already did." He rolled his head on his neck. "Gina left town. She'd scared. Before she left, she said it was possible two of the victims were lovers, but the third…"

"It might have been a love triangle?" Dean interjected.

Sam shook his head. "She said he was the town drunk."

Dean smirked. "Alcohol is the root of all evil?"

"I wonder if he saw the Agni." Sam offered.

"So it's covering its tracks?" Dean mused. "That's a bit more scary."

"Thinking evil is harder to fight."

"So you've got nothing else?" Dean pushed.

Sam's face evolved into a smirk. "You're not going to believe me."

Dean's grin grew. "So, I get to be a fireman like Kurt Russell in 'Backdraft?"

Sam shook his head. He had no idea where his brother always found the time to watch as many movies as he did. "Kurt Russell died Dean."

Dean's smile fell. "Well…" He paused. "How about the Duke in "Hell Fighters?"

"He quits at the end." Sam replied.

"Killjoy." Dean growled. "So, what's this unbelievable method?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Hopefully, there will be something in this chapter that intrigues or entertains you. It is a slow build up.**

**Chapter Four**

Dean didn't believe Sam. As a matter of fact it made him grumpy to even consider it. "No way, Sam. It's just dumb. It doesn't make any sense." He stopped a moment, as if thinking about it. "Yep, it's the DUMBEST thing I've ever heard."

Sam was tired of the entire situation. He didn't have the energy to continue to convince Dean. "So, do you want to eat out or in?" Sam swallowed. He felt Dean's glare through the bandages. "So, in?" He coughed. "Dean, this is temporary. There's no shame in going out."

Dean wasn't about to justify his mood. "If you want to go out, be my guest." He knew from Sam's silence and the tone he'd used, he was giving too much anxiety away. He smiled. "Hey, Sammy… This is your time to shine. I get to stay in and you get to go out and have fun. Go have a drink or ten… meet a lady. With me not around, you might actually stand a chance of getting laid. You're not too ugly." His grin took on a decidedly wicked appearance. "You can bring her back here! I promise I won't look!" He settled back against the headboard, continuing to grin.

Sam shook his head. He knew what Dean was trying to do. It was times like this he was most frustrated. He'd never understand why Dean couldn't just admit the truth with him. It was hard not to take it as an insult. Dean would never let their relationship be equal. Dean would always play the tough guy protecting his little brother from all harm. "I'll order a pizza."

Dean sat up on the edge of the bed. "No, Sam. Get out of here."

"Dean, I've been out all day. Did it occur to you that I might WANT to stay in?"

"It occurs to me that you pity me." Dean bit.

Sam closed his eyes. He didn't know if he was feeling pity, but he definitely still felt guilt. He knew it wouldn't go away until Dean's eyes were restored. He couldn't even begin to think about what would happen if…

"I don't pity you, Dean. This will all be fine the day after tomorrow." He snatched the Impala keys. "I'll go get us something else."

Dean opened his mouth to argue, but stopped. He couldn't let the intensity get to the situation. "See if anyone in this rinky-dink town has some pie. I want pie."

Sam smiled. "Pie it is."

**Supernatural**

The next morning, Sam changed Dean's bandages.

"How's it looking?" Dean asked pensively.

"I think your face is looking better." He finished smearing the ointment on Dean's burns and reached for the bandage. Dean's hand shot out and caught Sam's. "Hey! How'd you do that?"

Dean chuckled. "Well, you know what they say, Sammy… your other senses are heightened."

"Good for you." Sam again went for the bandages, but was stopped by Dean's hand a second time. "Congrats Dean, now let me finish."

"No… Sam, let's check my eyes." Dean squeezed Sam's arm tighter and didn't release.

Sam swallowed at the desperate plead. His brother's façade was shaking. "No, Dean. The doctor said three days. It could make it worse."

Dean forced a smile. "Yeah, but if I can see now, we don't have to wait, right?"

Sam pushed Dean's hand away and quickly retrieved the gauze. "No, Dean. We're not going to take the risk." He rewrapped Dean's upper face, praying Dean couldn't feel how his body trembled with pent up emotion.

Dean sat in silence at the table.

Sam pushed Dean's jacket into his lap. "Get that on. It's cold outside."

Dean shoved the jacket so it fell to the floor. "I'm not going out Sam."

Sam sucked in a deep breath in preparation for battle. "You need the fresh air and we need breakfast. Let's go."

Dean didn't move.

Sam's heart pounded in his chest as it always did when he confronted his brother. He stooped next to Dean and picked the jacket up. "Get up."

"I said I'm not going."

Sam clutched Dean's upper arm and pulled him up. He was counting on Dean's disorientation to assist and wasn't disappointed. "GET UP." Once Dean was on his feet, Sam shoved him a few feet forward while still holding on to him. Then he handed Dean his jacket. "Put it on."

Dean's body radiated anger and embarrassment. "Maybe I can't?"

Sam scowled. "You can put a jacket on."

"I'm BLIND or hadn't you noticed?"

Sam's breaths threatened to stop flowing. "I did. That doesn't mean life stops. Now, put your jacket on and let's go get breakfast."

Dean was shaken. He'd never felt quite so lost. Part of him wanted to trust in his brother's optimism and the other was terrified. This wasn't just unfamiliar territory, this was as close to hell as he could imagine. "Just this once, Sammy." He whispered.

"What?" Sam asked turning back to face Dean.

Dean swallowed. "Just breakfast. I'm not going out again."

Sam's heart went from pounding to electric. He'd gotten through to Dean. There was some hope. "Yeah, just wait until the girls hear your story. They'll be dripping all over you."

Dean hadn't considered that possibility. He took a tentative step forward and then a few more with Sam's guidance. As he reached the threshold, he stopped. "Dude, you gotta SWEAR, only hot chicks! You got it." He pointed his finger in the general direction he assumed Sam to be in. "I swear if you let some… I'll kick your ass."

Sam grinned. "I promise Dean. I'll only let hot chicks hang on you."

Dean nodded. "Chicks I think are hot, not your opinion."

Sam grimaced. "What's wrong with my choice in women?"

"Dude, you have had a couple good scores, but I so remember that one girl… hello, bow wow!" Dean smirked at the memory of Sam's first official date long ago.

"Hey!" Dean's grin stopped him from further reply. "Let's go."

** Supernatural **

As predicted, Dean got his fair share of attention from the ladies of the diner. As Sam pulled him out, Dean was making plans to meet a few of them later for dinner. "Come on, Romeo. I want to stop at the grocery store before I get you back."

Dean's senses went into overdrive. "What for?"

"Ah, food? I thought it might be nice to have something to eat in the room."

Dean had already formed ideas based on the mili-second hesitation in Sam's answer. "Fine." When they got back to the room, Dean held out his hand to take a bag as he waited next to the Impala.

"I got it." Sam insisted.

"What about the other one?" Dean asked.

Same paled, but of course his brother didn't see it. "There's only one bag… It's full though, can we get going?" He nudged Dean forward.

"I definitely heard two bags Sam." Dean resisted.

Sam closed his eyes in hesitation. "No, Dean. You're hearing things."

"Sammy, you can't mess with a blind man. We know what we hear." Dean's voice was confident.

Sam laughed. "Dean, you've only been blind for like one day. That doesn't make you an expert." He pushed Dean again.

"Maybe not, but I've been your brother your whole life and I know when you're planning something." He reached out and grabbed Sam's jacket. "You're not going after this thing alone."

"No, I'm trying to get my idiot brother into the hotel room before we freeze to death." When Dean didn't budge, he began to walk away. "Fine, get there by yourself." Once inside the room, he dropped the bag and turned back to watch Dean as he held on to the Impala to move forward. He stepped back out of the room. "Ready for some help now?"

"Get over here!" Dean barked. When Sam arrived, he clasped his arm. "You're staying in today."

"Excuse me?" Sam gulped. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out. "And you're going to stop me?"

Dean froze. He knew he was in no condition to physically stop his brother. "Sammy, I just… Stay in. We'll watch daytime television. We'll plot ways to get that fabric softener bear."

Sam let his brother's concern wash over him. "I'd still like to do some more research." His voice was small. "Like you said, it's kinda unbelievable."

"What, like an hour or two?" Dean pressed. His mind running through the possibilities of trouble Sam could get into in a short period of time.

Sam nodded. "Sure… Maybe there's another way to lure it out or kill it. Maybe I got it wrong."

"You never get it wrong, Sammy."

"But still." Sam pressed. He wanted out and despite the guilt, he would go.

**Supernatural**

Sam went back to the library only after assuring Dean he would be back shortly. Dean had earned that much from him.

When he returned they watched a few episodes of the X-Files on a Sci-Fi marathon and then cleaned up to get some dinner.

Dean was anxiously waiting for Sam in the door. "Come on, Scully!"

Sam laughed. "This morning I had to push you out the door AND I am NOT Scully."

Dean grinned. "Yeah, right. This morning I didn't know Susan was waiting for me. She's hot." He made a sound as if steam was rising.

"How do you know?" Sam teased.

"I can tell!" Dean barked.

Later that evening, as Dean sat in a booth draped by women, Sam sat at the bar. The bar tender offered him another round. He waved it off. "One of us has to be sober." He indicated his brother.

The bartender chuckled. "Yeah, he's quite popular. There'd be trouble if the regulars weren't staying in tonight. Home seems better."

"Home?" Sam asked, his senses heightening.

"Yeah, a lot of the local boys are in the fire department and they got called out to a pretty tough run today. There's been a rough patch for them."

Sam was growing tenser by the word. "What happened?"

He shook his head. "A local gal, Gina, she burned to death in her car just outside of town."

Sam felt like his world had just shattered even though he hadn't known her long. He thought she'd be safe. "Car fires are hard." He muttered.

The barkeep slapped his towel down. "That's the thing. The car didn't burn, just Gina. It's the weirdest thing and it's not the first time."

"Creepy," Sam mumbled. He reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills. "Thanks. This should cover it."

Dean didn't enjoy being dragged away from his fan club, but once Sam explained, his mood had equally soured.


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter is a bit on the short side, but there's nothing like a cliffie for the weekend...**

**Chapter Five**

"Sammy, it wasn't your fault." Dean offered. There wasn't much more he could do. Sam had gone out first thing in the morning to get more details on Gina's death. "Listen! She never asked us to protect her. You didn't cause this."

"I didn't stop it." Sam whispered. His heart ached for the newest addition to the list of people he hadn't been able to save. Would it ever end?

"You couldn't have known." The tension and anger were beginning to rise in Dean's tone.

Sam simply remained silent. Earlier he'd accused his brother of keeping secrets, at least silently. Now, he was. He had to admit it was a game they often played.

"I'm going over to Gina's house and look around." Sam abruptly stated some time later. He glanced at the clock on the nightstand and was startled to see it was already late afternoon.

Dean must have been napping because he fumbled as Sam spoke. "What?"

"I said I'm going to check out Gina's house." Sam repeated, somewhat annoyed.

"Why?" Dean pulled himself up and rolled his shoulders.

"I don't know." Sam lied. "Maybe there's something I'm missing…"

Dean cut him off. "_We're_ missing."

"What?"

Dean tried to roll his eyes under the bandages but was unsuccessful. "I said we're missing it. WE are still in this together. Remember? You're not going after this thing with out me."

"Why not?" Suddenly a wave of resentfulness passed through Sam. "I'm as good a hunter as you, whether you want to admit it or not. You hunted on your own. Why can't I?"

Dean wasn't about to argue this with Sam. Yeah, he knew Sam could hunt alone, but it would never set right with him. His brother belonged at his side… Well, preferably a few steps behind him. He knew this wasn't about a sudden independence streak. This was about Sam's guilt, first his eyes and now Gina's death. Sam wanted revenge. "We already fought this thing once and it whipped us. You're not going after it alone. It's going to take both of us."

Sam scowled loud enough for his brother to hear it. "I never said I was going to go after it. I just want to check out her house. Maybe there's some clue there?"

"What if it comes back?"

Sam groaned. "Dean! Why would it come back?"

"Then WHY GO?" Dean sighed and calmed his voice. "One more day Sam. Tomorrow we hit the doctor and kill this son of bitch." He scowled. "Look. I don't like it any better than you do. It's just one more day."

Both men lapsed into silence, neither wanting to admit the bigger fears in their hearts. Sam puttered with his backpack, loading and unloading it. He continually looked at the bandages on Dean's face. Dean, for his part, continually picked at them.

Dean finally broke the tension. "Well, if you're not going at this second, let's go get some dinner."

"It's still early." Sam muttered, knowing he wouldn't eat.

"So, a late lunch." Dean rose and felt for his jacket. "Let's go. I'm hungry. Where'd that pie come from last night?"

Dean invented excuse after excuse to keep Sam in the hotel room when they came back. Sam reviewed his notes and his plan, in his mind. Dean fell asleep with the TV on, which provided Sam with the opportunity that he needed. Over the course of a few minutes, he gradually increased the volume. Not so loud as to disturb the neighbors, if there were any, but loud enough to muffle extraneous noises.

Sam glanced over to Dean and studied his brother's breathing. He counted the steady rise and fall of his chest, making sure he was indeed asleep and not faking. The TV covered the sound of shutting his bag. It also covered the click of the door as Sam closed it behind him.

As Sam stared down the Impala, he debated his options. He could call a cab, but it would attract too much attention and hamper his return. Of course he had the keys to the Impala, but Sam knew his brother. He'd hear his baby's engine in the deepest sleep. Unfortunately, it was a chance he had to take.

The engine roared to life and Sam drove out of the lot. Inside, Dean woke to the sound of his beloved car's engine. "What the…" He sat up and called for Sam, knowing deep down it was useless. He searched the nightstand for his cell but couldn't find it. "Damn you, Sam!"

He groped his way along the beds and table and felt for his phone. He knew Sam wouldn't be stupid enough to take it. Dean would have to kill him then. Having no success, he made his way back to the bed and fumbled for the hotel phone. He pushed the necessary buttons and waited for his phone to ring. "You're paying for this damn call, Sammy."

Within seconds the cell phone rang. Dean set the receiver down and followed the ring. Once he had his cell, he automatically pressed the number to dial Sam's phone. He didn't need eyes for that. His entire body tensed as he waited for Sam to answer.

Sam had hoped he would have more time. He knew the Impala had given him away. She was nothing if not loyal to her master. He forced his voice to sound lighthearted. "Dean? What's up? You need something?"

"I NEED YOUR ASS BACK IN THIS ROOM!" Dean shouted.

Sam swallowed and shrugged. "I'll be back soon. I couldn't sleep…"

Dean cut him off. "So you decided to go after this thing on your own?"

Sam took a deep breath. "I'm just going to check out Gina's house. Maybe there's something there."

"And what about that extra bag in the trunk? You're leaving it there, right?" Dean insisted.

"Dean, I don't know what you're talking about… Look, I'm sorry you woke up…"

"Yeah, I bet you are. You didn't really think you could get away, did you?"

Sam grew hard at Dean's challenge. "Looks like I did, didn't I?" He paused. "Look, go back to sleep. Tomorrow, we'll head to the doctor and then blow this town. Maybe hit the slopes? We've earned it." Sam knew no amount of puppy-dog expression would work now. He was relying on his own wit, maybe Dean would respect that.

"Sure thing, Sam… after we destroy this thing, right? You forgot that." Dean waited for Sam's reply. "Right, Sam?"

"Right, Dean. We're not leaving town until this thing is dead."

Dean had never felt so helpless in his life. "Come back, Sam."

"Go back to bed, Dean. I'll be back soon." Sam tried to sound confident.

"I'll pull these damn bandages off right now and hunt you down." Dean said coldly.

"And risk permanent blindness? Just so I can check out Gina's computer and see if there's another copy of the picture we can use to summon the thing?"

"We don't need it Sam."

"We don't know that for sure. I just want to cover all the bases." Sam was beginning to believe his own story.

Dean began to pull at his bandages, but his efforts weakened. The fear of remaining blind scared him more. "Sammy, come back now."

Sam could hear the fear in Dean's voice. "Just a few minutes. I promise, Dean. Just a few minutes." He ended the call and prayed his brother wouldn't do something rash.

Sam pulled up in front of Gina's small home on the outskirts of town. He grabbed his supplies, including the bag from the trunk and after glancing around the neighborhood to be sure no one was watching, he pried his way into the house.

He briefly explored the house to be sure no one else was home. Once he knew it was clear, he made his way to the kitchen. Searching her cupboards, he located a small bowl and placed the contents of the grocery bag in it, then put it in the microwave and turned on the power.

He pulled out his notes, scanning them one last time. "Just when you think you've heard it all," Sam murmured. "A demon you can summon and hopefully kill with melted butter."

He thought about Dean's reaction to the news.

"_Butter? This thing wants butter instead of evil-doers?" He shook his head. "Sam, it's not nice to tease blind men."_

"_I wish I was teasing. Melted butter is the traditional offering to Agni." Sam confirmed._

"_So, we're supposed to melt a butt-load of butter and spread it all around?" Dean was looking for something that made the absurd story make sense._

_Sam nodded. "From what I can tell, he only burns the victims. If we can smear the butter around and get it to go after the butter, it should start something else on fire. That's what kills it."_

"_So, burning a human doesn't kill it, but if it burns a twig it will?" Dean hated even saying the words._

"_It's a theory." Sam said flatly. "If it destroys something other than evil, it loses its power."_

_Dean's head sank to the table top._

When the microwave chimed, Sam pulled the steaming bowl out. He grabbed a second container, poured some of the slimy substance into it and set it on the dining room table. As he waited for something to happen, he looked around and found a picture of Gina. He moved back to the kitchen and burned it in the sink.

His heart raced in his chest and his eyes darted back and forth looking for the smallest sign. "Come on, Agni. Come and get me." His eyes fell on a fire extinguisher in the corner, but before he could move for it, smoke filled the room. In the next instant, Agni formed before him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry about the delay. I was out of town and then dealing with a sick pooch. I don't normally thank specific people publicly, but this time, I feel compelled to offer gratitude to Ster1 and Relativity1953. I don't know who you are, but I do greatly appreciate your continued comments. I write for me, but we authors thrive on feedback. Thanks also to those quiet ones who add alerts. I assume it means you like something about the story!**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

Sam moved his arm slowly across the counter for the second bowl of butter. He snatched it and ran into the next room to the other side of the table. "Here you go Agni. Here's your butter. Now go away like a good little god."

Sam imagined the running commentary his brother would have provided about the butter, had he been there. His heart weakened for a moment and then hardened. Dean wasn't here because of his screw up. If there was no amusing banter, it was his fault so he had to suck it up.

Sam inched back as the flaming entity consumed the bowl of butter in an instant. For a few brief seconds it flared even brighter and then returned to its original form. The black eyes then focused on him. Despite the heat emanating from the being, Sam shivered.

His body seemed to freeze in place. He found himself wondering if that's why the victims could be burned. Something about the Agni willed them in place. He was seriously beginning to think he should have waited for Dean's help.

The paralysis lasted only until the first tendon of fire lashed out at his upper body. He was certain the flame had seared his skin and it propelled him backward. As he moved butter sloshed onto his arm, but he ignored it, hoping to spread it into the couch, hoping it would then catch fire.

** Supernatural **

Dean opened the door to the room and slid out along the frame. He stood for a moment to get his bearings. He longed to rip the bandages off, steal a car and save Sam. It should have been that simple. What if he ripped the bandages off and couldn't see? Sam had argued that the doctor would control the environment. If there was still trouble he could treat it again and hope for improvement.

Dean decided he would just have to save his brother in darkness. He'd been in worse situations, right? It's not like they weren't used to working in the dark. It's just that this time, a flashlight wouldn't help.

He listened to the night and waited until he heard a passing car. He slid along the building toward the sound of traffic. The hotel office was at the end of the stretch of rooms.

He tried to count the number of doors he'd gone by, knowing there was a gap between the rooms and the office. As he passed what he figured was the last door, he slowed down and reached a toe out to test the space. He felt the ground slip away from him. He moved slowly and made the step down to the concrete.

He tried to picture the scene from when they checked in. He hadn't thought to pay attention to it then, but his memory was trying to reform the image for him now. He thought he had about fifteen feet to cover with nothing to guide him.

Dean nodded his head and shook off his worry. He took a tentative step forward and then added a few more. He forgot to figure in the size of his steps. The next thing he knew his shin bumped against the step and he went sprawling.

He growled as he picked himself up. At the same time the desk clerk came out to investigate the noise. "Can I help you?"

Dean looked up and revealed his bandaged face.

"Mr. Weaton? What's going on? Where's your brother?"

"You know me?" Dean asked, puzzled.

She was immediately at his side. "I checked you in."

"I didn't expect that. I thought Gina said…" Dean stammered.

The woman sniffed. "Not much good sitting around home crying. There's nothing I can do for Gina and there's only a few of us to work the desk." She coughed. "Thank you for saving her."

Dean shook his head. "We didn't."

"You did the first time it went after her." She tugged at his arm. "What did you need?"

"Listen, I know this isn't going to make much sense, but I need to get to Gina's house." Dean hoped maybe since they were cousins, the two women would have the same sensibilities.

"The thing that's plaguing this town? It's there?" She whispered. "But Gina's dead."

He nodded. "I know, but my brother is trying to lure it in so he can kill it."

"Can he?" She asked softly. It was hard to imagine the man before her was going to be of much assistance.

"Not without me. Look, I need a ride." Dean pleaded.

She glanced around the lot. "Hold on." She stepped back and locked the office door. "My name's Shirley and my car is around back." She grabbed his arm and tugged him.

** Supernatural **

Sam smashed against the wall as he attempted to outrun the latest talon of fire to seek him out. He ignored the pain that coursed through his body from the previous assaults.

He didn't like the direction his logical mind was bringing him. He couldn't get the Agni to attack anything else while it was still focused on him. In the split seconds he allowed his mind to consider the circumstances, one of the flaming arms whipped out and wrapped around his jacket in the precise spot he'd spilled the butter. He screamed at the pain and lurched away from it.

The flames resisted, but he dropped to the ground and rolled on his side in order to put the flames out. He didn't count as something that should burn. He coughed out the smoke in his lungs and made his decision. He wasn't ready for this fight.

He dodged an attack and made his way to the front door. Before he reached it, Agni blocked his path with a wall of white hot flame. Sam pulled back, hoping for a back door. He didn't get a chance.

Sam stood still, considering his options. If he wanted to get Agni to burn something other than him, he was going to have to be the bait. He eyed the couch with the fallen butter bowl near it. He knew he had no choice.

He could hear Dean yelling at him. He could imagine the ferocious phrases his brother would hurl.

He saw no other choice. "I'm sorry, Dean."

** Supernatural **

Dean could hear the sirens wailing behind them as they pulled up to Gina's house. Dean didn't wait for Shirley's help as he bounded out of the car, but fell as his feet hit the curb.

Shirley ran around to his side. "Dean, you can't." She tried to hold on to him, keeping him on the ground.

Around them chaos was erupting. The house was fully involved in flame. Dean didn't need to see it to know. He could feel the heat on his skin. "SAM! SAMMY!" He shouted to his brother over and over.

He grabbed at Shirley's arm. "My car, the Impala… is it here?" His heart leapt with the thought that Sam had already left.

Shirley paled, knowing what Dean was asking. "No, it's right behind us."

"SAM! SAM! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!" Dean struggled to rise to his feet again.

A fireman saw Shirley struggling to keep Dean back and came over to help. "Sir, we'll handle this. You need to stay back."

Dean looked to the sound of the new voice. "MY BROTHER IS IN THERE!"

The fireman's eyes twitched. "Stay here. We'll get him." He stepped away, but held an arm on Dean's chest. "WE'VE GOT A MAN IN THERE."

"Thanks, Scott." Shirley mumbled. She appreciated the support. The two watched as a fully geared-up crew stormed the house. Another crew ran hoses and began to pump water at the flames licking the night.

Dean's breaths came in gasps, but he continued to struggle against the two holding him. If he had his sight, he could have easily fought them both off, but now he was useless. Even if he freed himself, he didn't know where to go.

Minutes seemed like hours. Countless horrors went through Dean's mind as he waited. He envisioned the number of ways he was going to kill his little brother.

A cheer went up through the crowd as two firemen exited the house with a body slumped between them. "They've got him Dean." Shirley exclaimed.

"How is he? Take me to him. Is he ok?" Dean fired off one demand after another.

Shirley was about to propel Dean forward when she saw Sam's limp body fall to the ground. She gasped. She couldn't have stopped it.

"What is it? Is he alive?" Fear sent quakes through Dean's words.

"They're helping him." Shirley answered as she watched the medics swarm Sam.

"Let me go."

Dean's plea was low and guttural. The emotion ripped through the hearts of both people holding him.

"This way." Scott pulled Dean to within a few feet and stopped.

"What's going on?" Dean couldn't make sense of the garbled words he was hearing. He focused his ears to hear the medic's words when no one would answer him.

"Not breathing…

bag him…

watch out for those burns…

He's crashing…

Charging…"

Dean couldn't take it. "You hang on SAMMY! FIGHT THIS DAMN YOU!" The pressure was killing him. He pulled at the bandages around his eyes, clawing at them until they stretched enough to fall around his neck. Then he peeled at the shields on his eyes.

The medicine used to treat his eyes was gummed at his lashes, holding them closed. He tugged at one lid after another and then blinked several times. He looked to the direction of the voices reporting his brother's condition and gradually a picture formed.

He closed his eyes briefly, willing the scene to be different when he opened them. "No, Sammy… not like this." He whispered, just before reopening them.

Sam was splayed out on the ground, his shirt ripped open to reveal thick red burn welts. A medic was charging paddles and a second later applied them to Sam's unmoving chest. He watched in horror as Sam's body lurched into the air. As soon as he'd settled back down, another medic resumed pumping air into his lungs.

Dean's heart fell from him. His brother was dead.

The same thing happened two more times. Dean was positive his own heart didn't beat and his lungs had stopped working in sympathy. Desperation settled into his soul. "Come on 

Sammy. Fight this. You gotta breathe!" He had no idea where the oxygen for his words was coming from.

"Breathe, Sammy. Take the damn breath!" Dean pleaded more loudly this time. Then he pushed through and dropped to his knees at his brother's side. He slipped his hand in between the medics and clutched Sam's hand. "Breathe Sam. You can't leave me now."

Just before the medics would try one last time, Sam's chest lurched and he gasped in air. He wasn't conscious, but Dean's heart soared as he felt his brother's hand involuntarily grasp on to his for a brief second as he took in the breath.

"Let's load him up and stabilize him on the way."

Dean had no idea who said it. He didn't take his eyes from Sam's ashen face, but he moved when Sam did and without asking climbing into the back of the ambulance with his brother.

No one tried to stop him.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Thank you for your response to the last chapter. I do really appreciate knowing the story is worth commenting on. Here's the end of our tale. I hate rushing an ending, so I hope you find it fitting. (I hate to say it, but we all know Dean wouldn't actually KILL Sam for his actions. ...grin... And yep, Iuliana is right... It isn't just hurt Dean!)**_

**Chapter Seven**

Dean had been forced from Sam's side hours ago. He paced the waiting room. One of the nurses recognized Dean from earlier in the week. She pulled him from the sterile, plastic waiting area into an exam room and cleaned up his eyes.

She chuckled as she worked. "When you were in the exam room, I was cleaning up your brother's hand. You two are quite a pair."

Dean swallowed hard, choking on his words. "Yeah. we are." He squirmed at her touch. "Is there any word on him yet?"

She shook her head. "No, sweetie. But the doc will be here as soon as he can."

"That's the problem." Dean mumbled. It was taking too long. His heart ached for his brother, no matter what the condition. Sam's damned, open, ginormous heart led him to this risky step. Dean told himself he would have never been as stupid as Sam. Surely he would have waited. Dean envisioned Sam arguing that 'ginormous' wasn't a word.

The nurse gently clapped her hands together indicating she had finished. "Do you want to wait here or back in the waiting area? There's more privacy here." She gestured around.

"Where will the doctor will find me sooner?" Dean said flatly.

She smiled. "Here it is then. I'll go check on things for you."

Dean swallowed and fidgeted with the edge of the table. Time didn't want to cooperate. It only dragged.

"Mr. Weaton?"

Dean turned to find the doctor in the doorway. "I see your eyes are working. That's good news. Are you noticing any residual problems? I'll need to run some tests." The doctor had quickly advanced and reached to poke at Dean's eyes.

Dean shook his head and waved off the man. "How's my brother?"

Ripert smiled and nodded. "Of course. He should be fine."

"Should be?" Dean cut the doctor off.

"He received some nasty burns, varying from first and second to a few points of third. Fortunately, those are quite small and shouldn't need any grafting. They should heal over 

in time. He'll be uncomfortable for some time, but the scarring should be minimal with good care."

Dean finally felt like he could breathe. "Can I see him?"

"Certainly, I'll take you to him." He extended his arm for Dean to follow. "Before you see him you should know he's sedated."

Dean nodded eagerly in understanding as he walked beside the doctor. "For pain? He whines a lot." He secretly hoped his comment would get back to Sam. He'd enjoy the torment for some time to come. As far as he was concerned, Sam was going to regret acting on his own for a long time to come. Sam would think twice before even thinking about such a dimwit move again.

Ripert stopped just outside a door. "No, I should have warned you. He sustained substantial smoke inhalation. He's responding well to treatment, but I did feel it best to intubate him. I want to get as much oxygen into his system as possible. That's why we put the tube in."

Dean paled. "He's not breathing?"

The doctor shook off the misunderstanding. "He can breathe on his own, but he wasn't getting enough oxygen. The smoke prevents the lungs from using the oxygen correctly." He stopped Dean from advancing. "We should be able to remove it in the morning assuming his blood workups come back improved."

Dean nodded and pushed past the doctor's arm. Before him was a typical, white, sterile room. He'd been in rooms like this a countless number of times and yet it had never bothered him as much. Never before had his brother lain pale and unmoving in the bed.

He forced his feet to bring him closer and when he was finally next to the bed, he slipped his hand across the rail and grasped Sam's limp hand. "Hey, Sammy." He whispered as he stared at his brother's scorched fingertips. They glistened with some sort of goo which he assumed was meant to protect them. He couldn't bring himself to look at Sam's face.

He didn't know if it was the fear of seeing the tube push air in and out of Sam's lungs or the potential damage from burns. No matter what reason he tried to conjure up, it boiled down to witnessing his own failure. Sam was lying here because Dean had failed to protect him. His baby brother suffered because of him… again.

A nurse pushed a chair up behind him and he automatically sank onto it. "Thanks." He mumbled. She quickly left.

Dean swallowed and drew in a long slow breath, finally raising his eyes to meet Sam's face. "Rest now, Sammy." He chuckled. "You know I'm going to have to kick your ass when you're feeling better, right?"

Glancing around the room to be sure he was alone, he let go of Sam's hand and reached up to touch Sam's cheek. It was warm and firm, and tinged red. "Anything to get the ladies sympathy, huh?" Dean let his finger tips gently run down Sam's arm and torso, feeling the thick bandages under his hospital gown. "I don't think you'll be skiing any time soon, but a lodge might be just what we need, ok?"

For some reason, Dean kept expecting Sam to open his eyes, spit out the tube and fight with him. When it didn't happen, he settled back and eventually drifted off to sleep.

** Supernatural **

Sometime late in the night, a nurse woke him and sent him back to the hotel. Sense took hold and he complied. The one thing he could do for Sam now was look as good as possible when he woke. He napped for a few hours, showered, shaved and grabbed something to eat.

He'd spent more than a few minutes studying his face in the mirror. He blinked his eyes repeatedly, fast and slow. He opened one eye at a time and then the other. He played with all sorts of combinations of vision, utterly relieved to have it. He was careful to be gentle with his healing skin. He didn't want it any redder looking than was necessary. He didn't want to alarm Sam.

He finally pulled on his jacket and returned to the hospital, prepared to unleash a punishment such as Sam had never felt.

He'd missed Sam's transfer. They'd already removed the tube and moved Sam into a room. When Dean finally tracked his brother down, he was resting in a bed with his head turned away from the door.

"Sammy?" Dean stood in the doorway, waiting for a sign.

A few slight coughs and groans later, Sam's wan face turned to him. "Dean." The volume was barely above a whisper, but it went straight to Dean's heart despite his anger.

It was time for a new approach. "Morning Sunshine." Dean strolled across the room and plopped casually into the chair by the bed. He knew super-nice big brother would creep Sam out even more.

Sam swallowed and tried to wet his lips. Dean sensed his need and helped him with a few sips of water. "Are you supposed to be getting this?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Thanks." His voice was still whisper soft and hoarse.

"No problemo. That's my job. Keeping my pain-in-the-ass little brother safe… oh wait… he doesn't make that easy does he?" Dean's banter was laced with the anger that had been building.

"I had to."

Dean jumped out of his seat. "NO…" He glanced around, bringing his temper under control. Now was not the time and Sam's wince was more than enough evidence of that. "You needed to wait a day."

"It would have been the same results." Sam offered.

"Really? You know for certain it would have ended with you being burned and a tube shoved down your throat?"

Sam looked away for a few beats. "I had to get it to burn something…"

"So you offer YOURSELF?" Dean interjected.

Sam scowled. He was tired and sore and in no mood for this discussion. "No, but in order to get something else to start on fire, I needed bait."

"I thought that's what the flippin' butter was for?" Dean retorted sharply. "I mean, seriously, butter? Something that ridiculous was supposed to be the key. You said so yourself."

Sam shook his head. "It wouldn't work that way. It just sucked the butter up. I needed to get it close enough to something it wanted…"

"You?" Dean demanded.

Sam nodded. "And something that would burn at the same time."

"Also you?" Dean chided.

Sam scowled. "The couch."

Dean sat back down. "It worked. The house is toast." He quickly added. "You nearly were too." He took a deep breath. "It went after evil Sam. You weren't evil. It wouldn't have touched you if you hadn't used the damn butter." Dean refused to consider that it had gone after him and that implication. He simply didn't care.

Sam nodded and they lapsed into silence. Sam's nose twitched and he reached up with his unencumbered hand and fiddled with the nasal cannula. He glanced to the door and then pulled it out.

Dean had been watching out the window, but caught Sam's movement from the corner of his eye. "Knock it off. Leave that alone!" He slapped at Sam's hand and pushed the tube back in place.

"It annoys me." Sam grumbled, sounding more like a pouting child.

"Poor baby." Dean settled back with a warning glare. "You asked for it."

Sam's eyes flared. "I did not."

"You went after it alone, Sammy. You promised me." Dean was rarely as sincere with his feelings as he was now. All his anger and hurt was plain to see.

Sam looked away. "I'm not going to apologize."

Dean waved his hand in the air. "Of course not." Dean's anger and frustration couldn't find the proper way to expend itself. His body was tense and his heart seemed to be skipping beats.

Once, he'd driven off on Sam and it had killed him. The entire time Sam had been at school, nearly killed him as well. He knew he wasn't completely whole without Sam by his side and yet, he also knew, no matter how much his brother claimed to love him, he was not plagued by such an issue. Sam was always fine on his own. Sam would never understand. He simply couldn't.

This knowledge didn't help Dean at all.

They settled again into silence and soon Sam was asleep. For the rest of the day, Sam dozed and Dean watched the television. At dinner time, Dean stood up to go.

"You're going?" Sam asked quietly.

Dean's face remained neutral. "I'm entitled to a good night's sleep, aren't I? All you're doing is sleeping." Sam's hurt expression nearly moved him to stay. "I'll be back in the morning. The nurses on the night shift aren't as hot anyway."

** Supernatural **

The next morning, Dean rushed through the hallway. He hadn't meant to be this late; he knew Sam would worry. As he rounded the doorway, he came to an abrupt halt. Sam was attempting to stand with only the help of his IV pole. Every nerve in Dean's body screamed for him to jump in, but his heart overruled. He merely stood there, watching his brother flounder.

Sam happened to glance up in search of assistance. "Dean? Don't just stand there. I need a hand." His voice and eyes pleaded for help.

"Are you supposed to be out of bed?" Dean asked nonchalantly and took a few steps into the room.

"Dean!" Sam groaned. He felt his fingers slipping. "I just want a little walk. I'm sick of this bed."

"Then walk." Dean passed right by Sam and slumped into the chair by the window. He looked to the TV, noticed it was off and jumped up to snare the remote control from Sam's rolling table.

Sam stared at his brother, utterly astounded by his brother's behavior. He paled. "You're really not going to help me?"

"Why?" Dean glanced Sam's way. "You don't need my help."

Sam gave up his struggle and collapsed back onto the bed. "Fine, be that way."

Dean bit his tongue to keep from responding. He forced his eyes back on the TV screen.

Sam fumbled to pull himself back onto the bed. As he struggled, his day nurse, Cassie appeared. "Sam! What on earth are you doing?"

He blushed at the alarm in her voice. "I just wanted to go for a little walk. I thought I was allowed up?"

Cassie scowled. "With help! Your brother is right here. You could have asked him."

They both looked over to Dean, who looked up. "He didn't ask."

Sam's jaw dropped in disbelief. Before he could say anything, Dean added. "Well, you didn't. You just said you were going for a walk."

Cassie raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think he might need some help?"

Dean looked from Cassie to Sam. "He doesn't need anyone's help. He can do it all on his own."

Cassie immediately knew she'd stumbled into something bigger. "Look, I have to check on a couple other patients." She swallowed from the tension in the room. "If you don't want to help him out, I'll be back in a few minutes." She forced a smile and looked at Sam. "Ok? It's a good sign that you're raring to go, but not too much too soon, ok?"

Sam nodded. "Thanks, Cassie."

He looked over to Dean, fully understanding just how angry and hurt his brother had been. He'd completely ignored Dean's feelings and gone on his own selfish needs. Sam hadn't considered Dean's own need for revenge, especially with his own fears looming over his condition. Sam left Dean when he was essentially helpless and most vulnerable.

"Dean, would you please help me up?" Sam said softly. Dean had sent his message and Sam would acknowledge its receipt without the benefit of an emotional outburst. No chick flick moments for the brother's Winchester.

Dean immediately recognized the changed tone in Sam's voice. The air threatened to become choked with emotion unless he made the right move. He raised an eyebrow. "You just want to stand up?" He climbed from his chair and stood before Sam.

Sam scowled. "No, I'd like to see the outside of this room, too."

"So, a small walk?" Dean considered his options. "Sounds good." He noted the robe at the end of Sam's bed. "Without the robe though, ok? Give these nurses a little treat."

Sam groaned, but took the bait. "Careful Dean, you don't want them focusing on my assets instead of yours."

Dean grinned. "Charity, bro. Charity. You've earned a little ogling." He held out his arm and Sam latched on. "We are coming back though, right? Doctor Phil's on in a few minutes."

** Supernatural **

They avoided the topic for the next few days. It wasn't hard, Sam slept a lot or there were nurses present caring for him. For lung tests, or bandage changes or general check-ups, Sam was being doted on. Dean couldn't help think Sam secretly thrived on it, despite his protests to the contrary.

Dean knew it was those damn puppy dog eyes. He also knew Sam had earned it. Despite the circumstances, he'd done well. He'd done the research, formed a plan and carried it out.

Dean had gone back to the house and with a picture supplied by Shirley, tried to summon the Agni. It never came. Sam had either killed it or sated it. It was gone.

He'd given Shirley his number, in case it came back.

Sam groaned as he twisted on the seat.

"This was your idea, genius. The doc wanted you to stay longer." Dean kept his eyes on the road. He hadn't lied. Sam had insisted on being sprung from the hospital that morning.

"The longer we stay; the closer we get to being busted for insurance fraud." Sam lamented. They had argued the release at length. He chuckled. "Besides, you stole any equipment I might possibly need."

Dean smiled. "Hey! That breathing machine was small enough to fit in a duffle and it really helps you sleep."

Sam rolled his eyes. "It's called a nebulizer and I don't need it any more."

"And you got your medical degree, when? I thought you went to law school?" Dean snapped back and added a sarcastic raised eyebrow as well.

"So, where are we going?" Sam asked after a few minutes of silence. "Did you get us another job?"

Dean shook his head. "I hate to say it, but you did good."

Sam was struck by the surprise compliment. "I hate to ask, but what?"

Dean hesitated. He didn't want Sam thinking he could pull something like this again. "We earned a break. We're heading for one of those lodges."

"You didn't answer my question." Sam pressed.

Dean pulled the Impala to the side of the road and put her into park. He shifted on the seat and looked at Sam. "Look, I don't like what you did AT ALL and don't you even THINK of trying it again, but you did good getting that thing."

Sam grew a small smile. "I did, didn't I? How's it feel?"

Dean's eyes flared with anger. "It's not about me. I already told you, don't do it again Sam. I still may kick your ass about this one."

Sam chuckled softly. "Gotcha. No more solo jobs. Always make sure my big brother's ego is satisfied."

Dean's eyes flared with anger from the jab. He wasn't ready to make light of it. "You nearly died." Dean slapped at the steering wheel. "I watched them shock your heart… push air into your lungs… I've seen your burns."

Sam's guilt drove him to interject. "I've seen the same happen to you. I understand, Dean."

"It's not the same." Dean whispered.

Sam shook his head. "Don't play that game, Dean. It's no different for me. Do you think it was easy to wait while they treated your burns? You might have been blinded for life."

"This isn't about me, Sam."

Sam groaned. "Of course it is. If it's about me, it's about you."

Dean winced. "That's just… ew… Sam. You know the rule. No chick flick moments!"

Sam relaxed and there was silence between them as Dean took the opportunity to snatch a handful of M&M's. "So, where are we going?"

Dean grinned, chocolate residue and crunchy shell evident on his lips. "I'm going skiing."

Sam nodded. "Sounds like fun."

"You're not skiing, dude. You need to rest. I'm sure you'll enjoy the lodge."

A gleam of mischief formed in Sam's eye. "Sounds good." He grinned as Dean's shocked face turned to him and he continued. "You'll be out breaking your leg making a fool of yourself and I'll enjoy the company of the snow bunnies in the lodge."

"You? Snow bunnies? HA!" Dean was frazzled. "And what do you mean, break my leg? I can ski."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Since when?"

Dean was defiant. "You don't know everything about me, bitch!" He floundered for a good offense. Defense never suited him.

Sam laughed, although his hands slid around his abdomen for support against the pain it caused. "Jerk!" He paused long enough to let the warm moment engulf them. "Some things a brother always knows."

Dean merely grumbled and pulled back onto the road.


End file.
